


you're still picking me up

by lilaclavenders



Series: bloom [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Rostelecom Cup
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-17
Updated: 2018-09-17
Packaged: 2019-07-13 17:05:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16022237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilaclavenders/pseuds/lilaclavenders
Summary: "I landed a few hours ago," Viktor says, defeated. "Why are you still awake?""You'd promised to call me once you landed," Yuuri whispers, no venom or regret in his voice; he's just tired and he misses him. "Why are you still awake?"Viktor and Yuuri realise they can't live without each other, despite their flaws.





	you're still picking me up

**Author's Note:**

> title taken from postcard - troye sivan & gordi
> 
> uh, i have no idea how to write good things so whatever just take this

 

> but you're still picking me up  
>  don't you put me back down  
>  like it's nothin' to ya
> 
> * * *
> 
>  

Yuuri hasn't dealt with his apparent separation anxiety for a few years, so the moment he becomes acquainted with it again is the moment he experiences a very jarring sensation. He feels like he's just turned 18 all over again. It's distantly familar, something he forgot he could fit perfectly into - like the pair of old trainers he'd packed, from the back of his wardrobe. And maybe it hurts because he hasn't dealt with it for so long, and maybe it hurts because he hasn't been scared of losing someone who might love him.

Just because you've had bigger bruises to deal with doesn't mean something like this won't _hurt_.

And it's so raw, deepening and it's practically sending a tsunami crashing through his body, screaming, _you need him more than he needs you, pathetic- you need him you need him **youneedhimyouneedhim**_

But it brings some sort of peace to Yuuri, you see - he can finally admit that he needs Viktor, even though he knows the living legend himself is an amalgamation, a fortunate mixture of the most eccentric traits and flaws. Besides, Achilles knew his heels were still a part of him and he knew they let him walk as far as he could, even though they were weak.

Yuuri can breathe, albeit scattered, staccato and shallow - but he _can_ breathe. He knows he's able to survive without the one who makes heart race quicker than his self-doubt, it's a no brainer for Yuuri to think he'll fall apart once Viktor leaves him. _This_ , Yuuri knows, _could very well be practise for the real thing._

 _If I can't function properly for a day without him_ , Yuuri counts his breaths, _Then how on earth did I manage to do this before?_

This isn't some idyllic teenage yearning - Yuuri Katsuki could never be so hopeful, so greedy, so naïve with someone like _Viktor_. This is something entirely different. This feeling is the realisation that Yuuri suddenly has no idea what life was like without Viktor, without this feeling.

Viktor's already been married to his career for two decades - what good could 6 months with Yuuri do to break that?

Yuuri's been pacing around his room for a good couple of hours now, making sure his phone's off vibrate and that his watch is on the right time because Viktor had _promised_ he'd call when he landed and it's been hours _and hours_ and now it's 3am in Hasetsu.

Yuuri's just realising how cold it really is in Russia.

There's a knock at the door, naturally. "Room service," A sarcastic voice grumbles, muffled through the door.

Yuuri blinks, his reverie of thoughts broken. He robotically makes his way to the door, slowly shuffling his feet forward once realising who his guest is.

Yuri Plisetsky gazes at Yuuri, his intense green eyes glowering. Even though Yuuri is older and taller than him by a few years and inches, Yuri still stands imposingly. Allowing no room for debate from Yuuri, he announces, "I'm coming in."

Yuuri moves out the way, letting his feet shuffle himself back into the room. "Hi," he meekly greets the blond, flicking the light switch on.

Yura flops onto Yuuri's (and Viktor's) bed, staring up at the ceiling while letting out a giant sigh. "Is... _this_ what you were like before Viktor?"

"Hm?" Yuuri was well versed in deceiving others, but particularly in making others assume blissful ignorance was a main feature of his personality, even before he knew of Viktor Nikiforov.

"You," Yuri begins, gesturing vaguely around Yuuri, "acting closed off."

Yuuri cocks his head to the side, intrigued; his hands are still balled up in his pockets, regardless of whatever air of nonchalance he's trying to exude. "What gave you the impression that I'm closed off?"

"That's not it- You're too honest for that." Yuri almost misses the way Yuuri's pose switches almost defensively. His gaze travels onto the carpet, where the older skater's clearly scuffled back and forth across it. Almost accusingly, he asks, "Are you _afraid_?"

Preferring to answer Yuri's first question, Yuuri replies, "I first felt like this when I was 6," his answer an obvious _yes, of course I'm petrified_ without ever saying it. "Then on my first day of high school, then my first year in Detroit."

"Then now?" Yuri raises an eyebrow.

"Then now." Yuuri smiles, wearily.

"Well-" Realising he isn't qualified to deal with whatever _this_ is, Yuri sits up and points at Yuuri's shoes and asks, "Why're you wearing shoes inside your room?"

"I was gonna go for a run after- after," Yuuri rambles, looking at his phone, which lays idle on the side of the bed. It glows, with notifications from his family (but not Viktor.)

"He's shit at keeping promises," Yuri jests, trying to lift the mood. "Right?"

Of course, Yuri never says something unless it has an element of truth to it (or at least what he thinks is true.) He's a blessing and a curse - a package of brutal honesty and insults.

Yuuri's eyes begin to water, his mouth begins to curl, and his eyebrows considerably frown at the realisation that he isn't exempt from Viktor breaking his promises. (His hands are still balled up in his pockets.) Such a small thing, promises. A small thing indeed, with no legal ties or anything. He doesn't want to reply, knowing he'll start to fall apart before he can begin to respond.

(He does anyway.)

"How do you know he promised me anything?" His words are shaky, but heard all the same - Yuri doesn't seem to care if it's from laughter or not.

The blond frowns with Yuuri, though his expression seems to be in annoyance more than anything. "He's not even in the same country but he's made you feel upset without saying anything, of course he made you a promise."

Yuuri realises that he's referring to when Viktor left Russia the first time, breaking Yura's promise. 15 is a hard burden on someone who has to grow in the shadow of Viktor Nikiforov, nimble limbs and a sharp tongue growing and moving quicker than his reputation. "I-"

"Yeah, well whatever," Yuri responds, his lip curling defiantly. "I'm not upset about that right now, I'm angry 'cause I had to share the fucking podium with fucking JJ _again_."

Yuuri smiles weakly in return. "Of course."

Gesturing to Yuuri's phone, the Russian yawns, "He'll call you in the morning." He makes his way out of the room. "Go to sleep."

Yuuri nods, relieved that he hadn't shed any tears in front of someone who's known Viktor longer than him. "You too."

 

* * *

 

 

It's 3am and Yuuri's still awake, idly gazing outside the window, still wearing his trainers. His phone suddenly rings, and he stumbles while reaching for it.

"Viktor?" Yuuri breathes out, slightly winded by his fall. His voice is scratchy, silent since Yura had left, which was at least 5 hours ago.

" _Hi_ ," Viktor says, pleasant and calm; the moon lights Yuuri's first trail of tears. " _How are you_?"

And just like that, it's as if they've forgotten how to properly talk to each other for a moment, after spending practically every minute in every hour getting accustomed to the way the other breathes, lives and communicates back without once uttering a sound. It's unfair how Viktor can make being alone look simple, as if nothing had happened, switching personas as if he lived to perform. (It's as if he'd forgotten he'd begged Yuuri to change his mind and make him stay, banging on the other side of the bathroom door as Yuuri rebooked Viktor's ticket home.)

 

* * *

 

 

_"Yuuri!" Viktor's voice is muffled through the door. "Don't book that plane ticket - I'm fine. You need me here, even if you can look after yourself."_

_"Vitya," Yuuri argues back. "Don't act like you're above this! You need to go home!"_

_"Wow," Viktor sardonically replies. "I can care about my dog even if I'm not in the same country as her! I still cared about you even if-"_

_Yuuri, still unbeknownst to the knowledge of the events that transpired during the Banquet, interrupts. "Your flight's in three hours."_

_They're silent after that. Yuuri opens the door slowly and finds Viktor sitting on the bed, hands on his face. He walks tentatively towards the bed and gingerly kisses Viktor's cheek. Viktor slightly shifts once Yuuri's lips leave his cheek._

_"I'll help pack your things, okay? Then we'll go out for dinner," Yuuri calmly says. He's never been in a fight with anyone apart from himself; it's a foreign sensation._

_Viktor gets up and doesn't look back at Yuuri. "I-"_

_Yuuri looks towards the back of Viktor's head. "Hm?"_

_Viktor briskly walks away into the bathroom, packing his toiletries._

 

* * *

 

"M'okay," Yuuri says all too quickly, rushing his response so Viktor can't hear the way his voice warps, in the way he misses him, and so that he can hear his voice again. Promises are such little things, Viktor's never really promised anything much, so Yuuri takes what he can get. "Are you okay?"

" _Your mother says she's proud of you_ ," Viktor supplies, his voice cool and clipped. It's hard to discern whether he's pretending or not - calling someone never has the same immersive experience as being physically with them, anyway. " _Makka- She's doing okay_ ," Viktor adds.

"That's good," Yuuri whispers, watching the moon becoming blurrier, the more his tears obscure his vision. "That's really good. I'm glad."

" _You're not good_ , _your voice is doing that thing it does when you cry_." Viktor states, his bluntness not too dissimilar to Yura's. Living under the shadow of something so unavoidably dazzling can't be helped, it was inevitable that Yuri Plisetsky would have to equip himself like Viktor Nikiforov did. Almost as if he'd never left the rink, Viktor's tone immediately shifts to one of exasperation, pointing out what Yuuri apparently did wrong. " _I told you! I should not have left-_ "

"No, Viktor. You didn't want to leave," Yuuri interrupts, because he knows Viktor doesn't like being wrong and alone. "But I know you needed to."

Viktor desperately tries to justify his argument, " _But_ -"

"You needed to," Yuuri firmly, but gently insists. "If not for her, for me. She's been with you for such a long time, Vitya. I've only known you for a fraction of that time."

" _I landed a few hours ago_ ," Viktor says, defeated. " _Why are you still awake?_ "

"You'd promised to call me once you landed," Yuuri earnestly whispers, no venom or regret in his voice; he's just tired and he misses him. "Why are _you_ still awake?"

Viktor likes to avoid questions he does not wish to answer, hoping the absence of an answer would not reveal itself as an answer. (Also, Yuuri knows that Viktor is a bad liar.)

" _Ah_ ," Viktor says, airy. " _Did I say that_ -"

"You are absolutely shit at keeping promises, aren't you?" Yuuri proclaims, a little annoyed.

" _I am_ ," Viktor agrees, amused. He's past the point of justification at this point, Yuuri wryly acknowledges this as fact. (Only God can hope Viktor realises this is quite a bad thing.)

There's silence; Yuuri swears Viktor's holding his breath, wondering if they've forgiven each other yet.

(Spoiler: Yes, they have.)

Yuuri wonders how far into the future he can go with Viktor, just for a second. He sighs, giving in and breaking the silence. "Can you promise me this, then?"

Viktor hums in response, fatigue seeping through his composed state. " _Whatever you want_ ," he flippantly replies.

"Promise you'll be honest," Yuuri says. "I don't want you to be perfect, just don't feel like you need to hold back. And- and if you can do that-"

" _Okay_ ," Viktor sighs, a little relieved. " _I can do that, just don't make leaving you so easy, next time_."

Overcome by a sudden warmth of a realisation, as if he'd never known the harshness of a Russian winter, Yuuri blurts, "I-" (Ironically, he stops himself.)

" _Hm_?" Viktor replies, interest piqued. (He obviously picks up on Yuuri's hypocrisy.)

"Can't wait to see you tomorrow," Yuuri says, after a moment of deliberation.

" _Amazing_ ," Viktor whispers, delighted, but also not convinced that's what Yuuri had planned to say. " _We haven't even been a day apart_!"

"Don't be a dick," Yuuri hisses, choosing not to bring up how Viktor secretly left his pyjama shirt under Yuuri's pillow. "You owe me, remember?"

" _Of course, Darling_ ," Yuuri's coach responds, a gentle thing of a sigh floating through his student's phone, sweet and ardently fond. " _And I'm doing fine now, thank you for asking_ ," Viktor adds, as an afterthought.

"I-"

" _Hm_?"

"Love you," Yuuri says, before hanging up immediately after.

(Viktor definitely hears this.)

 

* * *

 

"I didn't call you immediately because I wanted to see how long I could go without talking to you." Viktor blurts out, the moment Yuuri comes in contact with his arms. "But all I did was realise how lonely I was before I met you," he sheepishly admits, his words muffled into fluffy, dark hair. "I thought I could prove I could still be..."

"Be what, Viktor?" Yuuri replies, raising an eyebrow. "Tread carefully, I literally only had 2 hours of sleep because of you being petty."

"Sorry," Viktor murmurs, shamefully. He lowers his voice, "Though I think I almost started crying when I heard your voice over the phone."

Yuuri smiles, melting into Viktor's arms. "You should be sorry," he replies jokingly. He rubs Viktor's back in lieu of verbally acknowledging his confession, probably as an act of keeping some of his integrity in tact.

"24 hours is a long time by yourself," Viktor remarks, knowing fully well what loneliness is like. He carefully asks, "What did you do?"

Yuuri knows he has enough endurance to battle the ice for hours on end, but he feels winded when trying to find the right words. "I was thinking about how I'd ask you to stay with me until I retire."

Viktor grips Yuuri tighter. "Oh Yuuri," he whispers back, a relieved thing of a welcome. "Yuuri-Yuuri- _Yuuri_!" He kisses everywhere he can possibly kiss on Yuuri's forehead and hair, laughing with unadulterated bliss between each one.

"What?" Yuuri lifts his head up, greeted by the sight of Viktor's watery smile. "What is it?"

Viktor looks straight at Yuuri, his hands cupped around the Japanese man's cheeks. Yuuri scrunches his nose and squeezes his eyes shut, huffing a laugh in response. Whoever this man is, he's _definitely_ in love with Yuuri Katsuki.

Viktor excitedly replies, "If that's what you want, then- then I wish you'd never retire!"

It isn't a promise, but it's so much better.

"Really?" Yuuri gasps, so quietly, reserved for the man in front of him. "Well, that sounds a bit like a marriage proposal, Vitya," he lightly teases.

"Well," Viktor replies, jovial as ever. "Good job I'm saying it to the person I love- Though I wonder what my student would think about this. Wouldn't he be disappointed, Yuuri?" he replies, just as playful as his (boyfriend? fiancé? who knows?)

"Yes, very funny," Yuuri groans. Viktor's made this joke about having an affair with his student many, many times.

Viktor pulls Makkachin's lead with one hand and grips Yuuri's hand with the other. "Well, that's why you love me."

Yuuri drags out the longest exasperated sigh he can possibly muster at this moment. (Perhaps this is the moment where his endurance is needed most, to keep himself sane.) "Mhm, and I'm also guessing that your ability to keep promises is another reason why I love you."

Viktor gently elbows Yuuri's ribs in retaliation and sarcastically chuckles. " _Wow_."

Yuuri will never know if his separation anxiety will go away, but he knows that he probably won't experience it for a long time. He also knows that he isn't the only one who can't seem to readjust himself back to his old life, alone. Besides, if Viktor Nikiforov is someone who wants to fall in love with Yuuri, then who would be daft enough to stop him?


End file.
